Painted Mirror
by LostWithWords
Summary: There is a new addition to the BAU. One that brings along intrigue and danger for all, especially for Dr. Spenser Reid. There will be supernatural elements in this tale. Reid X OC. Please review. Thank you.
1. Chapter 1

_Painted Mirror_

_Appearance_

The morning was not going well. Spence Reid's eyebrows were furrowed as he contemplated the ghastly pile of files on his desk. He had been neglecting them for a while, but now, with Emily and Morgan and everyone else pretty much up to date on their work, he would have to start making some progress before the stacking mounds of paper on his desk caught the attention of Hotch.

He sighed deeply. He could have left the files as they were, maybe feign illness or nausea. With the ordeal he had endured, lots of people would have been more than willing to help him, even finish up for him. But, what would that accomplish? What would he do with all the time on his hands? Reminiscence on screams of victims past, dream of the intoxicating ecstasy that seduced and exploited him night after night? "Damn…" Just thinking of dilaudid made a tremor slice through his very being; it was so terrifying, the very idea of returning to that numb haze, and yet, so very appealing.

"Stop it..." He commanded his mind, control over which he had been struggling to regain for the past year. Thoughts like these did not help in that aspect…

Sighing once again, Spence dug into the paper mountain, scribbling reports and going over reviews and descriptions of crime scenes, feeling the familiar sensation of a decrepit comfort, an escape from the haze to the screams. Still, there were times when he wished for just one hit. It would be the madness leave, even if for a split second. The phantoms of terrified eyes and pleading voices would leave him, even if for a single breath.

"Damn you..." he cursed again, scribbling even more furiously, stopping only to gulp a mouthful of very sugary coffee.

"Attention, people." Aaron Hotchner's gentle but firm voice caused Reid to look up for the first time in two hours. He looked up to see their supervisor striding down from his office, followed by an unknown female. Hotch climbed down the few steps and placed himself at the centre of their workplace. Morgan, Emily, Dave and everyone else bestowed him with undivided attention, as usual.

"Everyone, I'd like to introduce a new addition to the BAU." He looked towards the girl behind him, and motioned her to come forward. She did so slowly, and Reid noticed she clutched a file in her hands, tightly. She was terribly nervous. He snickered unconsciously, remembering his first appearance in this wide roofed room. She was almost a mirror image of himself.

Reid let his eyes slide over her physique, examining her. Of course, he wasn't being lecherous or even desirous; he simply probed her appearance like his scientific eye probed every object or person that crossed his path. She was slim, and her skin was pale, almost with a hint of sickness. Her hair, which lay in clumsy tresses over her shoulders, was of an unusual red, subdued and almost ashen. Infact, her hair color almost resembled the color of dried blood, when it abandoned its crimson freshness and the vivid red began to be consumed by starry black, as he had seen so many times at diverse crime scenes. But, the coloration, though unusual strangely complimented her equally unusual skin tone. The most remarkable feature of her, he decided were her eyes. They were large, almond shaped, and set like jewels in the almost heart shaped face. Strikingly sharp, they were green, glassy green, but not transparent; rather, when he looked at them, Reid had the impression that they were like a very attractive casket, meant to conceal twisted secrets. He shook his head. "I have got to stop thinking…"

"This is Special Agent Aisha Rose. She has specialized in Criminal Psychology from John Jay College of Criminal Justice, and she's fresh out of college. Agent Rose..." He turned to her, "that's Agent Morgan." Derek raised his coffee cup in greeting. "Agent Prentiss." Emily nodded brightly. "Agent Rossi." Dave also nodded, more subtly. And "Dr. Reid." The girl smiled nervously towards each person, and all of them noticed that her fingers tightened on the file she held. Damn nervous. Emily smiled at her reaction; "she's cute..."

"Alright, Agent Rose." Hotch pointed her to a desk. "You'll be sitting there. And here at BAU, we get cases of any kind, every kind, all the time. So, I would suggest you settle quickly and start getting along with everyone..." He placed his hand on her shoulder briefly. "Welcome to the team..."

Smiling nervously and nodding seemed to be Aisha's two favorite actions. She executed them towards Hotch and as he left, she walked to her desk, her heading firmly down and her hand still holding onto the file, as if for dear life.

Reid watched her walk. Short, almost unsteady steps. "She lacks self confidence." He murmured, loud enough for Morgan, who had come and stood behind him during the introductions, to hear.

"Stop profiling the newbie, Reid." He said in a low voice, watching Emily walk over to help Aisha settle in. "It's her first day. Don't make me remind you what you were like when Hotch brought you over to the same spot." He snickered, causing the young genius to look up at him annoyingly.

"I wasn't close to being that overwrought and apprehensive, Morgan." He turned back to watched the two women speak. Emily seemed to be doing well in putting the new girl at ease. "And I wasn't profiling. I was just…estimating her presence."

"You mean, checking her out." Reid glared at him again. "Don't tell me boy wonder's developed a cute little crush on the new kid." He snickered again, and before he could be met with retort, Morgan placed his coffee mug on Reid desk. "Now. Let's not be unsocial pricks, alright? C'mon, before Rossi decides this one's his fifth..." He started moving towards Aisha's desk, where by this time, Rossi had also gathered, holding the girl in animated conversation. Reid watched Morgan join them, flashing the girl his usual amorous... ("Amorous?" Reid laughed at his choice of word) smile. She seemed much more relaxed now; she had stopped clutching the file, though she still fiddled with her fingers. He shrugged and lifted himself out of the chair. They'd have to get along anyway, so why not start now?

"There he is." Emily motioned Reid to come closer. "Aisha, there's our boy genius, Dr, Reid. You guys are gonna get along..." she smiled at him, and then her. "Aisha here has graduated at the top of her class from John Jay, and get this Reid, she has degrees in Medieval English Literature, Philosophy and Psychology. She's also working of a PHD on Literature of Horror."

"Whoa, looks like wonder boy here is gonna have a little competition." Morgan cracked. "Don't let him get to you, Aisha. We can always use another genius here. Maybe it'll let him take a break."

Reid shot a glare at Morgan (which obviously had no effect) before smiling faintly to Aisha. He was surprised, but not extremely. She was, or at least looked calm, and less capable socially. Though it wasn't to say that every social cripple was a budding genius, she was recruited by the BAU at a very young age (she looked hardly 23), especially when the fact remained that recruiting of new members, especially at this time of the year was highly unlikely. The fact that she possessed superior acumen was hardly astonishing.

"A PHD in Horror Lit is unusual, but of great interest. I've been an ardent reader of authors like Beckford, Poe and King since childhood." He said.

"What?" Rossi snapped. "You read Stephen King? Isn't that like the alphabet for you?"

Reid now threw a look at him before returning his attention to Aisha. She wore, he observed, a black V necked t-shirt and jeans of the same color. The black did wonders to set off the pale skin, as did the hair. Now that he had a closer view, he could see that her green eyes were framed with a hint of blue. "How utterly curious." He thought before turning attention to her reply.

"Actually, my study emphasizes on the effect of horror tales on the human mind. I'm actually incorporating elements of psychology, and investigating as to why works of authors like Lovecraft, le Fanu and Poe sometimes lead to violence and hate crime. Its true that popular media exerts a much more significant influence on the emergence of cults, and even individual action, but there have occurred cases where sociopaths, suffering from delusions, have killed people in accordance with various rituals described in these texts. The Necronomicon by Lovecraft would be a prime example." She talked rapidly, indicating confidence in her own knowledge.

"That's true. In 1923, Jeremy Sawyer killed 15 people before he was arrested. He claimed that the spirit of Cthulhu had invaded his victims, and he was killing them to prevent further propagation of Cthulhu's evil. He killed his victims by bleeding them, and then setting fire to the blood." Reid looked at the others. "He poured gasoline on the blood and set it aflame because he believed only fire could vanquish , and I quote "the bane of Cthulhu"

"Sawyer was an avid reader of Lovecraft, and that, coupled with his social isolation and sociopathic tendencies, led to him becoming the "Cleansing Killer." Aisha finished for him. "The nickname is terrible, though."

The rest of the team gawked at the two. "Unbelievable." Emily said. "It's Reid, and he's female."

"You know what, I think we'll leave you two braniacs to concoct theories way ahead of your time, which cannot be implemented in the 100 years." Rossi sighed deeply and went back to his desk. No, this girl wasn't going to be on his list.

"Yea, me too." Emily left, followed by Morgan, who winked at Reid before going back to piles of paperwork.

"D..did I say something wrong?" Aisha had a musical voice, with a faint accent.

"They're just being troublesome." Reid smiled again, lazily. "Its not everyday they come across someone who says something I can reply to." He shrugged. "You have a fascinating name ,by the way. Aisha ,the one who is "alive and well". It has a lovely phonetic effect, too."

He observed that when he spoke the meaning of her name, her face fell. For only a moment, a cloud seemed to pass over her glimmering eyes before they regained their luster. "My aunt was a teacher of Islamic history and the name of Mohammed's third wife fascinated her endlessly. She even wrote a number of papers on Aisha."

"Wow…Islamic history. Your family seems really diverse. And speaking of paperwork, I have some to…"

Reid was interrupted by Hotch who appeared on the stairs right above the work area. "In the conference room, please. Now." He disappeared.

"Looks like you have your first case, Aisha." Morgan called from his seat.

"From the look on Hotch's face, dosen't seem like it's pretty." Emily stood up.

"Well, its time to put those degrees to test." Reid said, looking back at her.

"I suppose it is.."

_Okay, this is my first Criminal Minds fanfic. I hope it'll be okay. Please review and let me know what I should improve on. And, the plot and the cases I'll be mentioning are completely fictitious. I don't own Criminal Minds [ would be awesome if I did!] Thank you all._


	2. Chapter 2

OOC: Thanks for the review!

_The strange that is._

"Erin Montana. Age 22."

The plasma screen installed in the conference room blazed to life with a collection of gory images. JJ handed a copy of the case's progress and outline to each member, who leafed through the pages while keeping an ear to Hotch's words.

"Five days ago, Erin Montana was found killed in her house, bled to death. Two days after that, 25 year old Samuel Miguel Cortez was found in his workshop, at the back of his house, killed. One day after that, the body of 29 year old Mina Moria was found in a church, left at the foot of the altar. All three victims had been bled to death, in a rather interesting manner." He flicked the remote and everyone watched the screen display an enlarged picture of the first victim.

"What the…" Morgan felt his jaw drop open. "Is that…"

"They've been staked, the first two victims, through the heart. The third." He flicked the remote again. "She was found in the church, just stabbed through the heart. No stake." Hotch sighed.

"Severe escalation. The unsub's killed 3 victims in 6 days. That makes him supremely confident about his own ability." Morgan said, his eyes still fixed on the image on the screen.

"Or the heightened psychopathic situation of the unsub's mind." Reid stared at the screen too, his fingers unconsciously ruffling through the pages before him. "He can't stop killing, not even to cool off between the murders, which is what most psychopaths do."

"This one will take a lot of victims in a short amount of time." Emily contributed.

"Meet you in the plane in 15. Move out." Hotch flicked off the screen and left the room.

Reid looked to the chair right opposite where Aisha sat, silently looking through the file. She seemed so out of place, so much like a fragile doll. 'Is that what I look like to the others?' He wondered, well aware of his physical weaknesses, though on some occasions he had shown surprising prowess.

"What do you think, Agent Rose?" Rossi asked, allowing her to enter the conversation.

"Delusional." Reid let himself marvel, for a moment, at how with every word, she seemed to strike some kind of harmony, like a musical note each time. "The unsub obviously believes he is killing with some kind of purpose, and from the nature of killings, there's possibility that he is not just killing, he's exterminating.."

"Exterminating…? As in…" Morgan let his words trail.

"The unsub believes the people he's killing are, or were vampires." Reid finished.

()()()()()()()()()()()

Hotch leaned into the comfortable seat and looked thoughtfully at the new recruit. She had suggested an interesting theory regarding the unsub's mindset, though it still had to be validated before they could sketch out a profile. But, she was interesting, and he was close to being convinced she was a valuable addition to the team. He watched as she looked out the window, engrossed in watching the clouds pass.

"So, what do you base your assumption on, Agent Rose?" He asked, causing the other people, who were talking among themselves, to look at him.

Aisha turned away from the window before answering. "In most cultures, staking is considered as a way to end the vampire's unholy existence. The vampire is held to be a creature that is beyond human death, and it is believed that one way to bring it death is to connect it to the earth. This is based on the biblical notion of "To dust thou shalt return." The stake pierces the vampire's heart and attaches it to the earth, to dust."

Emily scrutinized the photos of the corpses. "She's right. The stakes are planted in the ground. Not the floor though. Check it out." She handed a photo to Hotch. The floor of Montana's home as well as Cortez's workhouse had been dug up, the staked were placed in the soil, the earth."

"But then, why wasn't the third victim staked? Why left in a church?" Rossi looked at Aisha.

"Folklore also tells us that another way to kill a vampire would be by trapping it in a house of God. Maybe the unsub just decided to take it easier on the third victim. Staking a pretty messy business." She shrugged.

"Then, why bother to stake the first two victims? Why not just kill them and dump them in churches too?" Reid found her assessment interesting, but he also found it irking that he hadn't been consulted yet.

"Maybe he's following some kind of sequence. Some manual that tells him who to kill, how to kill, where to kill." Morgan offered.

"Yea, just like that case you guys talked about this morning." Emily offered. "The murderer who killed as in the Necronomicon."

"The Necronomicon isn't what told him how to kill. It's a grimoire, a spell book. It talks of beasts, monsters and ways to summon them, but not really of how to kill and who to kill. Plus Sawyer was mainly..shall we say, inspired? by the short story "The Call of Cthulhu" " The team, Reid included noticed how similar Aisha sounded to their boy wonder.

"Well, we'll find out more when we get to the crime scene." Hotch closed the file in front of him.

Everyone nodded in agreement before going back to talking. Aisha returned to her gaze of the clouds.

"So, how is it that you are so well versed in vampire folklore?" Reid asked after a few minutes. It was a question that had been bothering him. It didn't feel right that she had such extensive knowledge on the subject, maybe even more than him, just maybe. "Is it just your PHD subject or some kind of personal interest?"

Emily and Morgan shared a secret smirk while Hotch and Rossi reverted their eyes to the younger team members. JJ raised an eyebrow. It was rare for Reid to ask a question outside the case, he rarely questioned anyone about their own selves, normally people just told him themselves.

"I won't deny.." Aisha replied. "I find the concept of the vampire somewhat engaging. Its not the supernatural aspects of the creature as much as what it symbolizes. Freedom, from society, from rules. The drinking of blood has deep sexual undertones, exchange of bodily fluids being the implication. Moreover, the novel that popularized vampires in western culture, Dracula was remarkable in its expressions of female emancipation and breach of convention. I've always thought that, as a symbol the vampire is one of the most prolific."

"I take it you're not a Twilight fan than…" JJ said, mocking good-heartedly.

"No. The only contemporary vampire fiction I find credible are the works of Anne Rice. Symbolism is very prominent. Lestat de Lioncourt is the representation of the most intense of human desires; fame, power, also companionship, trust. Her work is groundbreaking. Twilight, on the other hand, was a complete waste of time." Aisha shrugged again, and Reid couldn't help but take note of the way her slender shoulder rose and fell, in one fluid motion. She was graceful, perhaps superior upbringing, he thought.

"Looks like we have the perfect person for this case…" Morgan remarked.

()()()()()()()()()()()

"So, what do you think?" Emily shuffled through the piles of books strewn on the dining table in the house of Erin Montana. "Of the new kid, I mean."

Hotch, who helped her didn't raise his eyes. "She's smart. If she's useful in the field, we'll find out."

"Yea, but don't you think having another genius could cause a bit of a clash in the team?"

"What are you talking about?" Hotch shook his head at the books, most of them were silly romantic novels. Didn't people ever read anything worthwhile anymore?

"I'm talking about Reid, Hotch." Emily slammed a few books down on the table, causing her supervisor to look up. "I mean, Reid's our walking talking encyclopedia. You think having another one could undermine his…well, his ego?"

Hotch sighed. He had thought about this situation but could do little. Aisha Rose was recruited on the basis of examinations that confirmed that her deduction skills belonged in the BAU. He couldn't do anything to get her transferred, not without a cause. "Reid will have to learn how to compromise and get along. She's probably a valuable addition to the team."

()()()()()()()()()()()()()_

"You're right." Reid said to Aisha who stood beside him, looking at the crime scene. "Staking does seem messy, and a lot of hard work."

"The unsub is obsessed with the idea of killing vampires. He would have done anything it took. But, why the staking? Why not just the church?" Reid shuffled through the clothes in the victim's closet.

"The unsub left no prints, no DNA, no trail of any kind. That's a bit strange, considering that the victim had fought back." Aisha knelt to get a closer look at the spot where the floor had been dug up, revealing a patch of bloodied soil. They had found defensive wounds all over the victim's arms and legs.

"So, how did the victim die? She was mounted on a stake, the stake wasn't pounded through her heart. Either way, it couldn't have been done with the victim fully conscious." Morgan mused.

"The police report said that there were no specific wounds marks on the victim, no bloes, no sign of strangulation, not even any chemicals in her stomach that could have incapacitated her." The closet yielded nothing. Reid shut the door and ran his fingers through his long brown hair, frustrated.

Aisha felt a small skip in her chest as she watched his long fingers brush his chocolate curls. Conscious of the heat penetrating her cheeks, she quickly looked downward. " Did...uh..did anyone find anything that might connect the victims?" She looked at Morgan.

"Well, JJ and Rossi and covering the other house. Then we'll move to the church. So far, nothing."

Aisha went back to inspecting the soil. She narrowed her eyes, something had caught her attention. "Dr. Reid, Agent Morgan." Picked up a small, blood stained piece of glass from the soil. "How did this escape CSU?"

Both the men knelt on either of her sides. "Damn sloppy." Morgan murmured, before holding open an evidence bag for her. " Where'd this come from anyway?"

"No wounds were found on the body that could have been inflicted by glass." Reid stood up. "Maybe its from a glass, did anyone find any broken utensils or silverware of any kind?"

"I'll go check." Aisha was out before Morgan could reply.

"This is way too strange, Reid." He folded his arms. "The unsub apparently didn't knock them out, didn't hit them, didn't even drug them. How does hell does he stake them? And if the victims did fight back.." He gestured to the room. "Where are the signs of struggle?"

Reid didn't answer. No point. He had nothing to say.

_Ok, I know this chapter isn't too interesting but I though I should give a look of the crime before I delve into the romance. You know, Reid's not the kind of guy to fall for someone in a flash, right? I'll get that started soon. Thanks. Please Review._


	3. Chapter 3

_Just a little closer_

"Ok guys, this is beyond ridiculous."

Penelope Garcia's cute round face was set in an exasperated pout as she communicated to the team what her technical research had yielded: nothing.

"I can't find anything even remotely related to these attacks. I mean, there have been stakings earlier, but they're usually by vandals. Completely delusional psychopaths who are way too disorganized to clean up after themselves." The team could hear the incessant clatter of her fingernails on the keyboard. "There hasn't been anything even close to staking in St. Germain, Wisconsin. It's a peaceful little place where the vampire subculture is almost non-existent."

"You expect this kind of thing to happen somewhere like L.A, not here, you know." Rossi tried to sip some coffee, then winced because it was way too hot.

"Then again, the deeply religious mindset of the people here and the resulting pressure might have caused the unsub to snap." Emily watched Garcia frown and fret while she blew gently at the coffee.

"Well, we're not getting anywhere with this tonight." Hotch saw Reid rub his eyes. "We're all exhausted, so let's get some rest now. Fresh eyes tomorrow." He set his eyes firmly at Morgan who seemed ready to argue. "Good night, everyone."

"Night, loves. Call me when you need guidance." Garcia's face disappeared as the computer screen went blank.

"Alright guys, your rooms are booked at the Chriorchid Hotel. Its just a few miles from here." JJ slammed down her paper cup. The coffee at the local police station was utterly undrinkable. It even gave the coffee back at Quantico a run for its money.

"What kind of a name is Chriorchid?" Reid questioned, standing and stretching again.

"Who cares, Reid? Just grab your stuff and get some sleep." Morgan yawned loudly. "Hate these cases."

"There's a kind of case you like?"

"Just shut up, genius boy." Morgan made a face before trooping out the door.

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

Spencer Reid narrowed his eyes to watch a crack that ran the whole length of the ceiling. He was bone-tired, but he couldn't sleep. The case was far too baffling to allow him peace. "Damn it!" He sat up , tugging his own hair. Ever since the whole episode oh being kidnapped by Henkel, he had lost much of his ability to deal with disgruntlement. He hated, absolutely hated situations where the leads, or in this case, the lack of leads led nowhere. He just wanted to get over with finding whichever unhinged mind added to the world's string of miseries.

"If only…" Reid fell back upon the pillows and closed his eyes. "If only…" One shot, just one, and he would feel the gentle stole of calmness drape over his tired limbs . He'd be able to sleep, and in the morning, he would think more clearly..So comforting, so safe, such soft escape…

"No!" His eyes flew open and he almost jumped out of bed. "I need air…" He needed to go somewhere, anywhere…the silence of the room was the enemy. It brought back the seduction, the helpless, intoxicating seduction.

Reid didn't bother to even take his coat. He locked the door behind him and began to stride down the corridor, his steps quiet so as to not wake anyone. He didn't need to be barraged with questions, not now.

The night was cold, the sky clear and woven with stars. He inhaled a deep breath, feeling much comfort at the touch of the cold air to his heated lungs. "Better..much better." He didn't need drugs. He wouldn't need drugs. He needed something…legal.

"Shut up." He cursed his mind. Alcohol was not the answer. He couldn't even think what would happen if he woke the following morning with a splitting hangover and staggered his way to the police station ( where the BAU had set up temporarily). It'd be the end of his life, both professional and personal.

He felt helpless. Angry. Enraged. Enslaved. No matter what, this clawing inside his chest, this constant need, this eternal void within him would never disappear. He wanted to feel the way he did before, he wanted to feel at one with himself. He wanted to be rid of these doubts, he wanted to stop wanting something so much. "What? What do I want?"

"Dr. Reid." Reid spun around with almost lightning speed, almost tripping and falling in the process. He had been walking along the little river that cut through the town, uncaring that there was a serial killer on the loose.

Aisha Rose stood in front of him, clothed in midnight blue. Reid felt himself drawing a sharp breath. She looked so…..unearthly. Her matted red hair lay loose as always, and he watched each stray strand caress and kiss her pale cheeks with unquenching passion. She wore a woolen shirt and jeans of the same color, and the uncovered skin of her arms throbbed with a strange dim incandescence. Her eyes, luminous in the faint starlight seemed to reach his very heart and twist every secret, every thought out with sadistic delight.

"Dr. Reid." Spencer snapped out of his reverie. He realized he had been holding his breath and let it out with a whoosh. "What are you doing out here?" She asked.

"I..uh…I'm sorry..um..I couldn't sleep. I needed…I needed some air" He stammered; suddenly the night didn't seem as cold. Infact, he felt an unknown heat envelope his lungs and heart.

"Oh..well, to tell you the truth, I couldn't sleep either. I came out to think.." Aisha brushed her hair behind her ear. She felt that skip return, it turned into a flutter and her heart started beating in an erratic rhythm. She watched him run his hand through his unamade, ruffled hair and felt warmth assault his cheeks again.

Quickly turning her head to the side, pretending to watch the run of the river, she continued, "But, we shouldn't be out here. I think Agent Hotchner won't be too pleased." She looked back at him, having gained better control over her impulses.

"Yes, absolutely. We should return.." Reid nodded. He started walking back, just a few steps ahead of his companion.

Aisha trailed behind him. She watched him walk. His movements were fluid, resembling a well oiled machine. The wind, which had picked up, whipped playfully at his trousers and he shoved his hands into his pockets. There was something in him that….she sighed heavily. Something that made her feel strangely detached from herself. His face, his hair, the way he spoke, what he spoke….

"Agent Rose?" Reid had stopped and had turned to look at her. Aisha realized she had stopped walking and was gawking like an idiot. "I'm sorry…" She started walking again, cursing herself incessantly in her mind.

"So, have you figured anything out? I mean, regarding the case…" Reid asked, this time walking slowly so that she could catch up with him.

"Unfortunately, no. I'm completely lost…" She was thankful for the cover of darkness. Ever since the afternoon, Spencer Reid had been affecting her in a wholly inappropriate way. "And you…?"

"I've ruled out clinical vampirirsm because the unsub hasn't taken any of the blood. And I don't think he has drank any of it other…"

"No trace of human saliva or other human DNA…the blood is all there." She threw bac her head , looking at the stars as she walked. "What could have done this…?"

Reid didn't answer. He was thinking again. There was no previous history of such deep violence in the area, so maybe it was someone from out of town. After all, the victims had been killed in their homes and one had been dumped in a church. For that. the unsub wouldn't need to know the area explicitly, he'd just need knowledge of where his victims lived. But then, where did he kill the third victim?

"Maybe Garcia could find a list of books that describes ways to exterminate vampires. I know there are a thousand in this century alone, but what if we narrow the search to books or even movies that have a cult following of some sort…If the unsub's mind is fragile, a prominent cult is likely to have a significant impact on it." Aisha suggested.

"That would still be too wide a criterion to cover. If there was just some way to narrow it down.." Reid sighed. The sense to hopelessness was returning.

"I'm sure we can…" It was at the moment that it happened.

They had been walking along the river, Aisha close to the water and Reid next to her. She had become careless, engaged in the discussion and her foot slipped on a slippery rock near the bank. She lost her balance and was about to go tumbling into the water when Reid reached out. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her up, towards him, a little too hard. She found herself pulled to his chest, her head touching his chin. In that instant, he could smell the essence of jasmine embedded in her hair, could feel the mild cold of her skin in his palm which still held her wrist. She had placed her other hand on his chest to steady herself, and unconsciously, he had placed his other hand on her shoulder. For a minute, they stood there, together, like lovers.

"I..I'm sorry!" Aisha almost dove out of his embrace, and barely stopped herself from tripping again. "I'm terribly sorry, Dr. Reid. I..I was being unmindful. I tripped. I didn't mean to…" She burst into a profusion of apologies, undoubtedly flustered by the incident.

"Please, Aisha…its alright. It wasn't your fault." Reid said, even though his heart beat like a jackhammer, threatening to rip apart his chest. "You really have nothing to apologise for…"

She stopped. Reid watched her face lighten, the deep blush of embarrassment give way to something else. The reddish hue remained on her face, prominent in the streetlights, but

"What is it?" He asked, unable to realize what had triggered this metamorphosis.

"You…you called me Aisha." She whispered, as if it was something she didn't wish too many people to know, a delicious secret she meant to savour and keep to herself.

Reid realized he had. He blushed deeply as well. It wasn't like him to be so familiar with someone so quickly. It had only been about 3 days since he had met her, and even after all these years with Derek and Emily and Dave, he still addressed them by their last names.

"Your name has a wonderful phonetic effect, its pleasing to the ear and its pleasing to utter." He babbled, trying to regain his composure.

"Right. It is…Thanks.." She seemed to be doing the same, trying to act like the adult she was.

There was an awkward silence between them. Neither knew what to say that would slice through the unusual tension which had suddenly developed in their midst. Aisha berated herself vehemently for acting like a silly schoolgirl and blurting out her joy at him calling her name. Why was she so happy anyway?

"We should go back now. Its really late." Reid broke the silence, for it was becoming unbearable.

"Yes…Yes. We should." She nodded and started walking, really really fast.

Reid watched her walk a few steps before saying, "You can call me Spencer."

She stopped, and turned. He could see the questioning astonishment in her eyes. "It's only fair." He said, his soft voice carried by the gentle wind. "I call you by your name, you call me by mine."

She smiled, a beautiful smile that lit up her face like a star. "I will, _Spence_r."

()()()()()()()()()()()()

OOC:_ I know its going slow, but I really want to concentrate on the slow development of their feelings before delving into the romance. Please tell me that's okay. And I'd love it if someone has some suggestions for the plot. Its related to vampires ( duh), but not the Twilight kind vampires. Real, folklore-based Anne Rice vampires. Please suggest. And please review. Love you all._


	4. Chapter 4

Conflict

The ocean gleamed in the menacing glare of the overcast sky. The waves rumbled and crashed against each other, engaged in torrid, passionate intercourse of fevered desire. Wind sang a roaring opera of delusions, as it seemed to him. But it was comforting, this feeling. His toes were snuggled by the day-warmed sand, and he closed his eyes.

"Spencer…" He heard a whisper, but the wind stroked his heated eyelids so lovingly that he didn't bother to look; whoever called him would wait, he knew.

"Spencer…" The call was so sweet, so full of promise, sensual, beautiful promise. He wondered who it was, perhaps someone with long red hair and exotic green eyes. He felt the veins in his heart expand; suddenly a burst of hot, wet blood slammed against his chest. He looked. He had to see who it was whose whisper was like a kiss.

Red hair, as if dripping blood. It danced in a mad waltz, as if the wind was a forlorn lover kissing his mistress for perhaps the last time. He watched the red against the faint pearl of her back. He was jealous. The pearl was his. The red was his. How dare the wind kiss what was meant only for his lips?

Spencer reached out. Won't she call again? 'Just one more time, and I will come.' He wanted to be kissed by the whisper again.

The wind grew wild. He fought against the overtures of another. Spencer hated the wind. He wanted only to entangle his lean, fair fingers in the hair, watch it seep like weeping blood from an aching wound. 'Call me.'

She turned. "Spencer…"

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"Reid! Reid!" Someone shook him by the shoulder, shook him like a wet rat. "Wake up, Reid!"

He opened his eyes. Morgan's hand gripped him like an iron claw. "Morgan, you're hurting me." He mumbled, and the older man let go.

"You alright? You slept in…way late." He pointed to the little digital watch on the dresser. "Its 9'o clock."

"What!" Reid jumped out and dashed to the bathroom before Morgan could say another word. "Why didn't you wake me, man?" He yelled from inside.

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"So, I looked up a list like you asked me too." Garcia yakked. "All books and manuscripts related to vampires, or any kind of supernatural creatures, just in case. I've found five hundred books bestsellers published in the past century alone, and about a million others that aren't bestsellers but have considerable market."

"Cancel Twilight, works by Anne Rice, Carmilla and Dracula." Aisha said, perched on the edge of the wide table that sat in the middle of the room. "Keep Salem's Lot, though."

"Gotcha." Garcia clattered and typed. "Alright, now I've narrowed the list down to books available in and around St. Germain, within a 25 mile radius, in stores and libraries and reading clubs."

"Of course, if it's a book that's been in someone's family for generations, we're lost." Emily blew at the disgusting coffee again.

"Think positive, my cherry." Penelope said. "I'm sending you guys my finds now.."

Everyone leaned over the screen to look at the list when Reid came rushing in, followed by Morgan. "Sorry I'm late.' He panted, having run all the way from the hotel.

"I should have taken the car." Morgan quipped before flopping down on a chair. "So, what have we got?"

"A list of books that detail on ways to kill vampires." Rossi looked at Reid concernedly. "You alright, kid?"

"Yea, just kinda tired after last night." He poured himself coffee before taking a seat. "No big deal.."

"What happened last night? Didn't you go to bed after checking in?" JJ asked, also looking at the young blue eyed boy who sat concentrating on his coffee mug.

Aisha didn't move her eyes from the screen but when Reid glanced at her, he could see the pretty shade of pink beginning to bloom. Her pale, normally whitish skin made any hint of color extremely noticeable.

"I read until late." He said, looking down into the coffee to hide his own redness. "Sorry about that.."

"Just make sure it doesn't happen again." Hotch, who too had been staring at the screen now spoke up.

"Yes, sir."

Garcia's face appeared on the screen again, blocking the list. "I think I found something, guys."

Everyone turned their attention to the analyst. "Talk to me, beautiful." Morgan said.

"Two weeks ago, a certain book went missing from the Wisconsin library. The books were being rearranged during that week, and after that was done, the librarian found one missing. She reported it missing the same day."

"What's the book named?" Reid and Aisha asked simultaneously.

Garcia raised her eyebrows for a second before answering. "Talk about synchonising. Anyway, the book is The Vampire: His Kith and Kin by.."

"Montague Summers.." Aisha blurted out, her eyes widening.

"I forgot, you're the expert on these blood-lovers." Garcia teased. "Peace, slayer." She popped off.

"Montague Summers..he's.." Rossi looked at Aisha.

"**Augustus Montague Summers** was an eccentric English author and clergyman. He is known for his idiosyncratic studies on witches, vampires, and werewolves, in all of which he professed to believe. He was responsible for the first English translation, published in 1928, of the notorious 15th-century witch hunter's manual, the _Malleus Maleficarum__" _Reid recited in monotone.

"The text had five chapters, The Origin of the Vampire, Creation of the Vampire, How to Recognize and Destroy the Vampire, The Vampire's Kith and Kin, The Vampire in Literature upto Dracula." Aisha continued. "But, I've read the work, and though its…well, entertaining, it dosen't have the ability to inspire this kind of fanaticism."

"The Unsub is probably also influenced by religious fervor. Look around, this is a Bible town." Emily waved her hand to gesture. "This kind of atmosphere can easily cause detachment from reality for someone who was never much attached to it to begin with."

" and I will drive down to the library and find out what we , you and Prentiss go talk to the local churches. Find out if there's someone who shows signs of fanaticism with religion, someone who shows signs of a short fuse, someone who is extremely biased towards Christians. Anything of the type. Reid, Rose, you two work out the geographic profile. Talk to Garcia and check for the occurrence of such crimes around the area." Hotch ordered, and everyone started leaving.

"Actually, there's a possibility the unsub isn't from around the area. He hasn't killed in any of the remote parts of the forest surrounding the town, just in houses. Of course, we still don't know where he killed the third victim, but I'm guessing it won't be some place that requires a thorough knowledge of the area." Aisha had started to put up a map. "In that case, we should check for crimes that mirror these exactly. You know, no blitz attack, no toxins…"

"That's good. Get on it." Hotch nodded and left. As he and Morgan went out the door, Reid could hear Morgan say, "Damn smart, huh?"

He was pissed. Really, really pissed. That was his theory; he had thought of it. And even though he knew she hadn't stolen it from him because he hadn't actually told anybody, his post-addiction phase made it easier to be furious for no reason.

"So, the killer seems to be moving from west to east. Three locations, the last one being the church. Do you think he's trying to make a point, Spence?" She was standing with her back to him, facing the map. He saw her hair tumble down her shoulders the way it had in his dream. And he wanted to touch it, just as much as he wanted to in his dream. But he wasn't comforted now. No, he was infuriated. He was the genius in this unit. He had been their guide to information and innovation for all these he would be damned if someone annoying redhead with pasty skin and alien eyes was going to usurp his position. God, how he hated that red hair now. How he hated this sickening desire within him to touch it.

"Dosen't that nest of hair ever get in your way?" He snapped.

She turned, the surprise evident on her visage. "What?"

"Seriously, why can't you cut it short or tie it up? Emily and JJ do the same…its stupid, you keeping it down." He got up and started scanning the map, not wanting to look at her again.

"Is something wrong, Spence?" Aisha asked, laying a tender hand on his shoulder.

Reid shoved it off, as it was something that stung him. "Stop calling me that, alright? I'm your superior, Agent Rose, and its time you treat me as such." He couldn't stop talking, he knew he was spouting nonsense, she hadn't disrespected in any way. "I know I told you that you could address me by my name, but that was before I realised you were a thieving snake."

Aisha was stunned. "I…I don't understand." She looked at him, both hurt and incredulous. "What did I do?"

"That was my deduction." He spun to face her and grabbed her arm, squeezing it hard. "I don't know how you came to know of it, but the unsub not being from the town was something I figured out." He let go. " Don't you dare try to take the team away from me, Rose. This is my family, and I'm going to do anything I have to, to keep it to myself." There was such hate in his eyes that Aisha shrank away from him. He hated the fact that she didn't protest or oppose, he wanted to hear her tell him what a bastard he was being. But she was silent, eyes downcast. She didn't want to talk to him, not when he was like this.

"I'm outta here." He stormed out, not noticing the softened sob that followed him.

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"The unsub is someone who is isolated, socially incapable. He should be noticeable because of his eccentric behavior, most of which pertains to his obsession with religion. Even in a town like this, he is just too much of a fanatic. He might direct anger and violence towards non-Christians, individuals whom he considers as sinners such as pregnant teens, alcoholics, even people who listen to death metal or goth rock." Hotch was outlining the profile when Spencer returned to the police station. "Most probably, he has a job that allows him lots of time to study religion, but also a job that emasculates him, makes him feel underappreciated. Its possible something happened in his life that he considers sinful, and he's killing "vampires" to show his devotion. He's acting like a the class of serial killer we designate as the "house cleaner"; he believed he is doing good by killing these people, cleansing the world."

Emily assumed the thread of thought. "Now, please remember, this is just a rough profile. We're not exactly sure about victimology, but we can assure you that each of the victims had done something in their lifetimes that made them appear as vampires in the eyes of the killer. We just want you to have an idea regarding the unsub, keep an eye out for anyone like him. It shouldn't be too difficult, ask around the churches and schools. Even the cafes and restaurants. He can be anywhere."

Reid watched the officers be given the rest of the profile, but he didn't bother to listen. He knew what they would say, instead he swept his eyes over the team members. She wasn't there. Spencer had spent the last two hours wandering the woods, not going too far , staying close to town and trying to think of places where the tird victim might have been killed. But, his mind kept drifting back to the words he had uttered, foolish words that had no meaning. He didn't understand why he was so angry; she was intelligent, she could easily have deduced what he had, then why was he so angry? He had sat by the river for a long while, trying to shut out these thoughts but failing. His memory alternated between his clumsy words and the occurrence of last night. Reid shut his eyes tightly and gripped his own hair, trying to forget the scent of her as he had held her in his arms. "Damn you!" He cursed loudly. She was like dilaudin for him; he hated her, but couldn't stop thinking about her…

"Reid." Morgan spotted him and walked over. The local policemen and women had dispersed. The profile had been given. "Where've you been?"

"Just getting some air."The excuse, Reid thought, was getting old. "Where…where's Agent Rose, Morgan?"

"She left right after giving up the geographical profile, said she wasn't feeling too good. But I thought you went to take her to the hotel.."

Reid stared. "She didn't tell you anything else?"

"No. Why?" Morgan's face now mirrored that of his younger colleague. "Did something happen?"

"Um..no. Nothing. You know what, I…uh..I think I'm gonna go back to the hotel too. Have a shower maybe. But,is there something I can do here?"

"Not really." Morgan didn't stop trying to gauge his teammate's situation. "You sure you're alright?"

"Yea, everything's fine." He knew nothing was further from the truth, but he would make it the truth. "Everything's just fine."

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Reid stood with his head bent, letting the cool water wash over him. He was completely befuddled. Why in the name of anything hadn't she told the others about his ridiculous behaviour? He was far too realistic to believe that she was showing camaraderie. No, there was something else. Pride? Doubt? Perhaps she felt that being a new member of the team, her accusation against him wouldn't be considered. Whatever the reason, he was still puzzled. He knew he should atleast apologise, but why did the bery thought of admitting he was wrong burn him up? He was never the egoist; then again, there was no one to combat his position and ego, was there?

"Damn.." he muttered for the umpteeth time before turning off the water and stepping out. He wrapped a towel around his waist and began to dry himself with another. He rubbed his hair absentmindedly while straining his head to find an decent explanation. Hopeless. He tossed the towel onto the bed and flopped down beside it, allowing himself to ponder over the crack in the ceiling again.

There was a knock on the door, and before Reid could even rise, Morgan slipped inside.

"Manners much, Morgan?" Spencer had started to get up, but seeing his friend, he lay back down.

"Shut up, kid. We need to talk." The statuesque god of chocolate thunder stood over the slender man. "What's up with you. Reid?" He demanded.

"What do you mean?" Spencer liked Morgan, but at the moment, he wished he would leave. He needed some time to himself right now.

"You know what I mean. I know you went through hell, Reid, but you were beginning to handle it. What happened to you? Why are you going back to the way you were right after Henkel?"

He stared. So, she had told someone after all. "Rose told you, huh?"

"No, she didn't. But, you yelled insanities at a fellow agent in the middle of a very crowded police station. For a genius, its pretty dumb of you to think no one heard." Morgan glared angrily.

Reid sighed deeply and sat up. "Does Hotch know?"

"No one but me. One of the detectives approached me with the situation, and I asked him to keep it quiet. But, you gotta tell me Reid, what the hell is going on with you and Aisha Rose?"

Him and Aisha Rose. Spencer couldn't believe how much he loved the sound of that. Spencer Reid and Aisha Rose. It was crazy. They would never even come close to getting alone. But, she had such lovely red hair. Spencer wanted to touch it so bad. That stupid, basless desire was starting to gnaw on his insides again. God, he hated this girl.

"I hate her." He snapped, vehemently. "I hate her, Morgan. I don't know why, but I hate that girl." He shook his head. "I can't stand her."

"Reid!" Morgan grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him hard. "Stop it! Listen to yourself. You're losing your reason. She's done nothing to deserve this." He let go and took his friend's hand gently. "The girl's trying her hardest to be a part of the team, don't you remember how Emily tried it too? Okay, so maybe none of us are too happy about a new recruit, but she's valuable. All of us, we have to give her a chance."

Spencer didn't answer. He couldn't understand anything that was happening to him. Why did he feel this anger towards someone he barely knew? What was he making up excuses to despise someone who meant nothing to him?

"I just need to be alone for a while, Morgan." His voice was low, tired, torn.

"Now's not the time." Morgam let go of his hand. "Everyone's at the hotel bar. We've had a breakthrough and we think we might have the unsub. You need to get dressed and come down."

Morgan walked to the door and before leaving, he turned. "You need to figure out what you really feel, Reid."

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Aisha sat at the table, right between Emily and Hotch, a glass of vodka in front of her. She hadn't touched the drink, and though she smiled when the others talked to her, her eyes were downcast. She was strangely aware of her long hair against her shoulders and cheek, and kept flicking it away from her face.

"Hey, Reid.." She followed Emily's gaze before seeing the young man. Aisha immediately averted her eyes, choosing to gaze on her drink.

"Hey.." Reid mumbled before slipping into a chair beside Rossi. He shook his head to the offer of a drink.

"So, we were just talking about Marcus Alberto, the guy we think is possibly the unsub." JJ started briefing him. "The librarian said that he was the last person to leave Wisconsin library, and he lives close to the church. Hotch and Rossi went over to his house, and when they mentioned FBI, the guy tried to take off. They found the book in his bedroom, with several lines about vampire killing highlighted. We also found crucifixes, vials of holy water, wooden stakes, everything you'd need for slaying the undead." She slid some pictures to him.

"You know what bugs me though.." Rossi raised his hand for another round of drinks, " Alberto seems way too disorganised to have killed those people. I mean, the killer left nothing, Nothing. And did you guys see Alberto's house." He tapped the pictures. "It looks like my room when I was 12. The unsub's organisation would have extended to his personal life as well. He should be obsessively neat."

"Alberto's possibly the passive partner of a pair. The dominant personality is probably the one directing these kills." Reid said, examining the photos carefully. "He's going to be intelligent, and probably believes he's invincible because he's doing the work of God."

"The local detectives are questioning Alberto, but I doubt they'll get anything out of him. He just keeps mumbling lines from the Bible." Emily gulped her drink.

"I think Agent Rose should question him." Hotch said, looking at the youngest behavioral analyst. "She's most well versed in vampire folklore and implications of related literature." He looked at the the others. "What about it?"

Everyone but Reid nodded in approval. "You haven't touched your drink, Aisha?" Rossi pointed out.

"I…I'm not very comfortable with the idea of questioning him, sir." Aisha spoke very soft, hesitation apparent in her voice. She kept her eyes down, and was unable to see, though she could sense, the surprise in all present.

"Are you sure?" Hotch asked, looking at whatever part of her face could be seen through the haze of red.

She nodded. "Alright, we'll do it, then."

Reid watched her. He decided he wanted the drink after all.

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She sat by the river, feeling protected and loved by the darkness that the trees bestowed upon her. There was no wind, but it was cool. She listened to the sweet sound of the water sing. It was much better here, without someone to always judge her, without someone to always expect from her. The rock on which she sat was dangerously close to the water, but she didn't care. She was far too busy struggling with more important issues. It was ridicuous, she smiled. She knew what was happening with her, and though she wanted to stop, she knew she had not onw whit of control over it. A deep sigh escaped her, and she looked t the sky, where a faint slit of moon grinned at her.

"Alone again?" Aisha turned her head. She felt the all too familiar skip and tried immensely not to embarrass herself by showing it.

"Yes." She turned back to the river. She didn't want to look at him any more than she had to.

"So, why'd you not tell anyone?" Reid slurred his words a bit. He had been drinking, quite a lot.

"Tell anyone what?" Her voice was cool, almost indifferent, cleverly concealing the torrid heartbeat.

"Don't play with me.." She heard his shuffling footsteps; he came closer and stood right behind her. "Tell me why you didn't tell anyone about what I said this morning." His words became even more unintelligable.

Aisha remained quiet. A soft breeze picked up, and began a dance with her hair. Reid watched, rapt, silent, watching the vision from his dream. He wanted to touch it; he wanted to touch her.

"Aisha.." She felt a shiver richochet through her, at the mere sound of his lips saying her name. He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Tell me, please.."

She started to speak, but her heart pounded so hard. "I don't think you meant what you said, Spence.."

He lifted his hand. "Look at me, Aisha."

She turned to him again. He was so beautiful under the shadow of light and dark. He knelt, so that he faced her.

"You think you know me, Aisha?" Spencer felt his head spin. He felt dizzy, unsure, bold. His hand seemed to move on its own, and he watched his fingers intertwine within her hair. It was as beautiful as he had dreamt. It was like warm, soothing blood, kissing his fingers. His other hand moved to her cheek. Reid felt thoughts crash against his skull, thoughts whose existence he didn't believe possible, not in him. He watched her close her eyes, as if afraid, as if anticipating.

"You don't know anything about me, you beautiful snake." His fingers, which had been caressing her locks tenderly suddenly gripped a fistful of red. She winced, but before any words could leave her, he pressed his lips onto hers.

Aisha's eyes flew open, but she didn't struggle. Instead, she let his searing tongue slip between her lips and take as much of her as her wanted. Her heart beat with such madness that she knew it would explode. She could smell the alcohol in his breath, and it was like a drug, the touch and the taste.

Spencer had never felt such insane hunger in his life. He kissed violently, forcing into her mouth and exploring every single inch. He loved the way she tasted, it was fragrant, like maybe strawberry. He couldn't stop gripping her hair, he never wanted to let go of this dream. His hand moved away from her cheek to graze her neck and he felt tremors pass through her. He couldn't stop wanting her, every flick of her tongue was like a hit of dilaudin; it slammed into his brain and electrified every single vein of his body. He felt an unfamiliar heat travel its way down his chest, downwards. Her hands were on his chest, gripping his shirt; her fingernails grazed against his hungry skin, begging for more..

He pulled away. Aisha's face was flushed; she breathed hard. "You.." he panted, trying to ignore that heat that still assaulted all his senses. "I can't stand you…"

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OOC: Review please! And guys, I need suggestions!


	5. Chapter 5

A small beginning.

Spencer Reid stared at the bowl of fruit that stood on the bedside table, with a sharp knife placed among the apples and pears. It would be so easy to just reach over, take the knife and slice through the blue veins in his wrist. It would be so easy, and would save so much of the humiliation.

"Yea, right..." He couldn't even begin to imagine how people would react. Garcia would sob her eyes out, Morgan and Hotch would weep, but without tears. Emily would stare disbelievingly, wondering if it was real. Rossi would shake his head and try to figure out exactly what had driven him to doing something so stupid. Infact, the whole team would start profiling him, both in life and death.

Reid groaned at the very thought as he rubbed his head. He was still struggling to understand if what had transpired a few hours before actually occurred. "Oh God..." he mumbled, gulping the drink in one shot. He felt disgusted, ridiculous. "Did I…" He couldn't even bring himself to describe it, even in his thoughts. This was not him. Spencer Reid was sweet, agreeable, brilliant but kind. He did not go around kissing women he didn't know, women who pricked at the sides of his pride. Reid didn't bother to ask himself what was wrong; he knew he had no answer. Drinking himself silly was the better option, he decided.

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"I hate waiting." Morgan declared with vehemence. "I just wish the damn unsub would make a move, so that we can actually do something instead of sitting around."

The team was sitting outside the house of the man whose name Alberto had revealed, after hours of rigorous interrogation which had left Hotch, Morgan, Emily and Rossi exhausted. Damien Ciro. Alberto confessed that Ciro was the one who had come to him in the Wisconsin Library and they had started talking about religion.

Ciro had told Alberto, the social misfit who carried schizophrenia in his genes, that God's world needed to be cleansed of the vile beasts that fed upon His children like parasites. He had given Alberto a copy of summers' book and shows him numerous other texts pf the same nature. He had preached to Alberto day after day until the weak man, who had nothing to lean on in the world, found someone to depend on, someone with a purpose. He had killed for his master who, he believed was an angel of the Lord.

"So, how long before we get Alberto to spill how they killed those people?" Morgan asked. Waiting and staying quiet was hardly his thing.

"We'll see to that after we get this guy..." Hotch answered, giving Morgan a look. "Do you mind staying still?"

"Hotch, we've been here for hours now…since morning. And he still hasn't shown up. I say we check the house."

"We're not going to jeopardize what might be the easiest chance to get Ciro. So, please, stay still!" He now glared at the African-American.

"Fine, But, what about you guys?" Morgan looked back into the passenger seats where Reid and Aisha sat. "Aren't you tired of the waiting?"

Aisha smiled dimly and shrugged while Reid rolled his eyes. He was terribly uncomfortable next to her, but he stayed quiet for obvious reasons. Rossi and Emily were in another SUV with the local detectives. Though Spencer was relieved that he felt normal again, he also realized that the normal him went into absolute jitters in front of a girl he kissed. He never looked at her directly, but out of the corner of his eye, he could see she wasn't, in the least bit, uncomfortable or hesitant. On the contrary, she looked relaxed, though quiet.

"Morgan, you need to cut down on those vitamins and proteins, man." He said. "You're too energetic, far too much. Or, is it the lack of feminine company? No pretty ladies lately to spend your um...stamina on?"

Morgan choked on the coffee he was sipping. Hotch stifled a laugh, as did Aisha.

"Shut up, kid...or this scalding coffee will stain your nether regions." He raised the plastic cup threateningly.

"I'm so scared. Someone help me." Boy wonder mocked.

"You're giving the newbie a terrible impression of—" Morgan started when Hotch snapped. "He's back!"

The saw a man approaching the house, a white male in his mid fifties; just like they had profiled. He walked rapidly, with an air of authority. He carried something under his arm, perhaps a bundle of some kind. The SUV resounded with the click of loading guns.

"Alright, Morgan. You and Rose take the west entrance. Reid and I will take the back. Rossi and Emily will keep the front door covered." He motioned to the two agents who had already gotten out of the other SUV. "Careful, people."

The four stealthily made their way to the respective positions. They allowed the unsub to enter the house before Rossi announced the presence of the FBI and burst in with Emily, as did the others.

Ciro was sitting in his bedroom, on his bed. As soon as he heard the sound of the break in, he very calmly extracted a gun from s drawer in the dresser, and made his way to the west entrance which was covered by Morgan and Aisha. Since he made no sound, the agents started searching the lower floors before coming upstairs, and Ciro took this time to quietly make his way to the west door, which was connected by another flight of stairs which could be reached by another door leading out of the bedroom.

"Damien Ciro! This is the FBI!" He heard Hotch's voice, but disregarded it, moving as quietly as a fox. He approached the door with gun raised, and opened it swiftly, pulling the trigger, which sent a bullet into the shoulder of Morgan, who had stood with his gun raised, but was taken by surprise. He screamed and fell to the ground.

"Morgan!" Aisha screamed, lowering her gun in shock for a split second.

It was at this moment that Ciro dove forward, slamming a fist into the girl that blocked his way. Aisha felt as if she had been hit by a ton of bricks, and followed Morgan to the ground. She could hear his steps; he was running away, and Morgan was groaning in pain. Forcing herself on her elbows, she grabbed her gun, which had fallen beside her, and aimed it at Ciro's leg. She pulled the trigger, and the bullet tore through the man's ankle, adding his scream to the air.

"Back here!" She cried to the agents who were rushing to the sound of the gunshot. Hotch, Rossi and Reid apprehended the criminal who lay on the grass, while Emily called for medical assistance.

"Hold on, Morgan. Help's on the way." She pressed a hand on his wound, trying to stop the blood loss. Aisha still felt pain searing through her cheek, but was more concerned about her colleague and friend's injury. "Hang on, please." She echoed Emily. "You'll be alright, Morgan. Please hang on."

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"Doing alright?" Hotch asked the girl who pressed an icebag to her swollen face. The wound was starting to redden and he knew it was quite painful. Damien Ciro was immensely strong, and it had taken both him and Rossi to hold him down and cuff him.

"I'll be fine..." Her words were muffled and distorted; the swollen cheek making it difficult to speak.

"Well done today, Agent Rose. You were quick, and you got the Ciro before he could kill anymore." He placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, smiling at her attempt to smile at him. "You should go to the hospital."

"I'll be alright, Agent Hotchner. How's Agent Morgan?" She asked, and he could see that speaking caused her pain as well.

"He'll be fine. I'm going to check on him right now. You can visit him later if you want, but right now, get some medication. This is an order." He fixed a steely glare on her, and she nodded as much as she could, eyes lowered, apologizing for the argument. "And Rose..." she looked up, "It's Hotch."

"I'll ride with her." Hotch looked to see Reid standing behind him, his hands in his pockets. "I'll...uh...ride with Agent Rose to the hospital."

"Good idea, Reid. Make sure she gets some medication." He nodded and left to ride with Emily to see Morgan.

Reid pursed his lips, and tried to smile. He saw the occlusion of blood that formed a terrible bulge at her pretty, fair cheek. She looked agonised, and pressed the ice, possibly trying to numb the pain. Looking at her, he felt his chest begin to ache, as if there was some kind of immense weight upon his heart. He swallowed hard, and bit the inner part of his lower lip. She seemed so hurt…

"Let's go…" He climbed into the ambulance.

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"To the woman of the moment! Smart thinking, kiddo." Rossi raised a toast.

The BAU was gathered at Morgan's hospital room. Rossi had popped open a bottle of champagne and was now toasting Aisha, who sat by the bed, holding a glass of champagne she couldn't drink.

"How's the face?" Emily asked, taking Aisha's glass from her.

She nodded, trying to avoid speaking as much as possible. Reid sipped his drink, watching her above the rim of the glass. The doctor had prescribed some painkillers, but they would impose sleep on her as a side effect, and she had insisted on visiting Morgan before taking them. She looked at him, and he immediately lowered his eyes. Did she really not mind what happened last night? Did she perhaps, want it?

He downed his drink, wishing there was enough for a second round. She hadn't touched hers, and he was contemplating a way to slip it when Rossi picked it up and swallowed its contents. Reid sighed dissapointedly. No more for now.

"Shouldn't you be getting some rest, Rose?" Morgan, who lay connected to IV tubes, asked, his voice considerably subdued from the ordeal of the surgery. "You look pretty beat up.."

"Not as much as you.." She mumbled, pressing more ice though it wasn't helping much.

"Stop rubbing ice and take the darn painkillers already." Rossi ordered. " We need you in perfect shape as soon as possible. We start questioning Ciro tomorrow, and we need your knowledge."

"Yes, sir. As soon as I get back to my room." Aisha stood up and placed her hand on Morgan's. "Get well really really soon."

"I will, Rose. Now go on." He smiled sparsely before the doctor came in and administered a sedative.

"I'll stay with Morgan." Hotch offered. "Reid, take Rose back to the hotel and make sure she takes her meds." He saw Aisha begin to protest and added. "That's another order, Agent Rose."

"I'll stay with you." Emily suggested, and Rossi raised an eyebrow. A cute little rumor regarding Hotch and Emily had been making round among the team for a while.

Hotch reddened slightly, but retained his demeanor. "Fine. Rossi, you—"

"I'll go talk to the doctor one last time. Night, kiddos." He strutted off, smirking to himself.

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They walked quietly, keeping distance between themselves. He wanted to walk rapidly, but her pace was slow; she didn't seem to be in a particular hurry. Then again, why should there be hurry? The case was almost solved, and she had proved herself well. Reid again watched her out of the corner of his eye, she looked at the sky, seeming to revel in the silvery moonlight. She looked pretty inspite of the battered face, and once again, he wondered what had come over him..

"I'm sorry." The words slipped out of him before he even realized where they came from.

Aisha stopped her gawking surveillance of the heavens and looked at him. "What..?"

"I said I'm sorry." Reid shoved his hands in his pockets. His eyes were bent. "About last night. I was dru—"

"You were drunk and missing dilaudid...I know." She shrugged. "Its nothing to apologise for."

Flabbergasted is a thoroughly crude word, a word whose use Spencer chose to avoid. But, upon hearing her reply, it was the only word that could describe his state of psyche. The fact that she was so completely nonchalant confused him as to whether what happened held any meaning for her. Or did she really think he was too entranced with alcohol…

"So, you don't mind? What happened, I mean.." He stammered.

"Not at all. I realize that anyone can commit a mistake, Dr. Reid."

"Dr. Reid" stabbed him in the chest like a very thin knife. He remembered his baseless accusations as well as his insanity. But, what was worse, he remembered the moment when he had told her that she could address him by his name.

"If its alright…" He started walking, she a few steps behind him. "I..I'd like to be called…I mean, because its my name, I'd like you to call me Spencer again, if its alright, that is...I know that I told you…but I was hoping.." His lips were dry; he ran his tongue over them. It was becoming difficult to speak.

"I think I'll save that for another time." She was swift. "Dr. Reid is just fine for now.."

He was silent. What was there to say? Obviously, she was more offended than he realized. And why not? For the umpteenth time, he wondered how alcohol could have made such a demon out of him. How it could have made him so unlike himself. Or was he…? Is it the drunk demon that is real, or is it this? The sweet, gentle, obliging Spencer Reid? He knew nothing. Suddenly, he felt as if for all his knowledge, he had somehow missed the most important of all knowing; he had missed the knowing of himself. Deep in his heart, did he ever wish to explore who he was? Or maybe he was waiting for someone else to lead him…a guide to his own self. One that was possibly lost.

His eyes were sad, almost stinging. There was an aching emptiness in his heart that had no reason. He felt lost once again, this time lost within himself. All the books, the equations and theories, everything seemed pointless…what would be written on his gravestone? Spencer Reid, genius? Was that all he was? A source of knowledge and brilliance?

"Would you like to go have ice cream?" Spencer, on hearing her voice realized he had stopped walking.

"What?' He mumbled, unable to understand.

"My face stings; I thought perhaps something cold would help abate the pain." Her voice was as unconcerned, as unshaken as ever.

"But, you're supposed to—"

"I'll return soon and take my pills. But…" she smiled. "I do need a companion for ice cream."

A soft breeze picked up. He felt that strange weight begin to lift, if only by an inch. Did Spencer Reid like ice cream?

"I'd like that…" They started walking again, this time side by side.

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OOC: Sorry for the delay. College has commenced. And, I know Spence was OOC in the last chapter, but alcohol can do that, right? C'mon…tiny break. Hope you guys like this chapter. Do let me know. And pleaseeeeeee suggestions! Love you all.


	6. Chapter 6

Crimson Darkness

He took a moment to enjoy the comforting hum of the plane before delving back into the pages of Gower's _Vox Clamantis. _Moments of bliss were rare in his line of work, and he had to snatch and cherish every speck he could find. He loved the feel of the book's rough cover against his fingers, the mere feel of the clouds rushing by him, the soft whispers of his teammates engaged in little trivial joys of their own. He smirked to see Morgan and Rossi frowning over cards, their faces absolute pictures of some approaching grave disaster. JJ lay upon the long couch, flipping through pictures of Henry. Emily and Hotch talked in low voices, partly, Reid guessed, so that the others wouldn't be disturbed and partly because they whispered secrets that were meant for them alone. He couldn't help but smile at Hotch's expression; his eyes were dilated and he blushed furiously as Emily giggled and whispered to him. They were ever so adorable…

His eyes traveled to the serene little figure, perched neatly by the window right opposite his. Aisha's brows were wrinkled as she deeply contemplated the words of Joyce's Ulysses, unconsciously fiddling with her hair which was, for the first time since she joined the BAU gathered into a loose bun from him strands hung upon her shoulders. Spencer liked this new look, though he preferred the unrestrained flow of red the most.

He smiled again as his mind reverted back to their little ice cream date. Even though she refused to call him anything but Dr. Reid, they had had fun. They had actually argued over which flavor to order, just for the fun of it. Spencer had let her do the talking, though Aisha continuously goaded him to speak of himself. He was surprised to find they shared a lot of interests. Beethoven, Mozart, Pachelbel, Kant, Bacon, Nietzsche, Joyce, Maugham, Milton, Munro…the list was almost endless. It was the first time he was actually able to discuss his views and ideas with someone without receiving a "Can you stop being weird for 5 minutes?" or a "Taking back five minutes of my life" or simply a blank look. It was strangely comforting to talk and realize that the person you spoke to realized what you were saying, it was a rare feeling, atleast for him.

Spencer didn't realize he had been staring at her, and when Aisha looked up, he barely had time to rush his eyes away. Her gaze met his and she smiled lightly before returning to the book. He sighed and did the same. They still had much to do once they reached Quantico.

Damien Ciro, the dominant personality of the "vampire killing" team had been arrested, but he had refused to speak a word. Hotch, Rossi, Morgan and Emily had berated and interrogated him for hours in the St. Germain police station, but they hadn't been able to extract even a sigh or s whimper. He simply stared at whoever questioned him, his eyes blazing. He and Aisha had stood outside, watching Ciro's unshaken silence.

It was after five hours of relentless questioning that Aisha suggested a different method, she proposed that she and Reid approach in a more polite, yet firm way, perhaps express interest in his work and hence get him to reveal his methods of slaughter. Exhausted and out of ideas, the others agreed to let the youngest profilers attempt to break this silent suspect.

Spencer entered first. "Good evening, Mr. Ciro. I'm Dr. Spencer Reid, I'm with the FBI."

The giant creature was quiet, assaulting the slim, frail man with his sight. Spencer felt unnerved, but his face showed no reflection of it. "I'm sorry you've been having such a hard time." He said, seating himself.

For the first time since they had come across him, words escaped the lips of a man who believed himself to be a cleanser of the world. "If you are sorry, you would do well to ease my discomfort." Ciro's voice was sharp, it was cold; it sliced through Reid's composure like a barbed whip through skin.

Spencer gulped and pursed his lips, forcing himself to return the man's hardened gaze. He had to maintain eye contact for if he looked away, it would establish fear and hesitation, which was exactly what a psychopath such as this fed upon. "And what is it you'd like me to do?" His tone was steady.

"I would like you to tell me why I am imprisoned when I should be honored." The words slashed through the air in the room. "You imprison a thane of God, you dare interfere in the execution of His commands."

His delusion was beyond reversal or cure; Spencer realized he would have to participate in Ciro's fantasy in order to extract information regarding the murders. "How did you come to know that you are a thane of God, Mr. Ciro?"

"I was born to serve His wishes." His utterance was laced with self importance and yet, resonated with devotion, fanatic devotion; his eyes were raised to heaven. "The Lord came to me as a child, he revealed to me the darkness that infested His world, and bestowed upon me the duty of restoring His glory and beauty by slaying the minions of The Serpent who prey upon His children. Tell me." He lowered his eyes, gazing into Spencer again. "why do you, a child of God accuse His warrior of the sins of darkness?"

"That's because you killed three innocent people Mr. Ciro and—"

"THEY WERE SLAVES OF SATAN!" Ciro stood up, the force of his rise knocking down his chair. "THEY FED UPON THE GOODNESS, THE LIFE OF YOUR BROTHERS AND SISTERS, FOOL! AND YOU DARE CALL THEM INNOCENT!"

Two police officers had rushed in to restrain the man whose face had become red with the impact of his roars. Spencer watched them wrest him into his chair and force him to sit. He watched them reinforce his bonds before leaving the room. Ciro glared at him, rage apparent in the darkened, maddened pupils. "You sin against the Almighty…" he said in a low, scratched whisper.

He had to adopt a different line of questioning. "Tell me, Mr. Ciro, how did you kill those…creatures?"

The suspect didn't answer. Instead, he watched Reid, probing him, as if trying to read him. "The girl…"

Spencer stared. "Excuse me ?"

"The girl that aimed the iron at my heart. I wish to see her." His voice held absolute finality. "I wish to speak to her. Now."

Reid was startled, he was used to delusional criminal making demands to confront thair captors, but something about this man struck him…in a negative manner. Suddenly, Spencer found himself reluctant to let Aisha come before the man who had had the heart to slam a fist into her ever so pretty face. He didn't want this monster to lay his eyes upon someone as pretty and frail as her; she was hurt…because of him. Spencer felt anger begin to consume him. This bastard whose only future was a padded cell had the audacity to demand the presence of the woman he had wounded so cruelly…How dare he..?

He heard the door open, and without looking, he knew it was her. He knew her hair kissed her face. He knew her eyes drilled into Ciro's, raining defiance. He heard her come closer, and sit next to him. He wanted to hold her hand; he wanted to protect her.

"How about you tell me how you killed those people?" Aisha was direct. She realized that if he were to answer, he would; there was no need for extravagancies of conversation.

Once again, Damien Ciro refused to answer. He looked at her for a long time, and Reid was perturbed to see that the man's gaze was different from when he looked at the others. His stare softened, and he seemed to be appraising Aisha's appearance. His eyes caressed the girl's face, a face that was set in stony aggression.

Ciro stopped his lengthened appraisal of her face and leaned back in his chair, his face suddenly relaxed , having lost its furious animosity. He set his sight on Reid again, and spoke. "It must be ever so distracting to have the company of someone as beautiful as her all the time, ever so distracting, and ever so pleasant." He looked back at Aisha, admiration now more apparent in his ocean blue eyes.

"Such beauty must ignite all those fires within you, Dr. Reid…"

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The pilot announced that the plane would land in a half hour. Spencer watched everyone collect their belongings with uninterested eyes. Ciro's words still disturbed him. Fires within him? He almost laughed out loud. The last time he remembered being attracted to some was when he met that bartender girl, one whose name he couldn't remember at the moment. Of course, there was Lila in LA, but he hadn't spoke to her in…forever. He had called her about twice after returning to Quantico. Like most people, she was stupid. Blank faces, or in her case, awkward pauses after each paragraph. That girl, like everyone else, didn't comprehend half of what he said.

He sighed. Hopeless was the exact word that described his love, or even sex life. Not that it bothered him much. He had enough literature and more than enough cases to occupy him, and rarely did his nethers rebel against his almost celibate existence. Of course, Aisha Rose was a woman of a completely different dynamic, intelligent and, he allowed himself another glance of her…she was a challenge. He knew he wanted her to call him by his name again, but he didn't think he would be able to see that wish materialized any time soon…

Shaking his head, he gathered his things. Hotch had pulled some federal strings and Ciro was being transported to Washington where he would be kept imprisoned while the questioning continued. His confession had already sentenced him to life in jail but the unit wanted to examine him regarding his method of murder. Ciro hadn't said another word after telling Reid of his "fires", but Hotch was confident that if Aisha and Reid persisted, he would eventually cave in.

"I know its unlike us to have a criminal transported, but I'd like all of you to conduct further investigations into his behavior and extract as much information as you can.' Hotch said, trying to avoid the little giggles everyone directed towards him and Emily. "But, we have other cases to look over. So, get some sleep." Everyone nodded. JJ winked at Emily who snaked an arm into Hotch's, just to annoy him. It resulted in Rossi and Morgan bursting out in laughter, along with JJ while Reid smirked and Aisha giggled. Hotch was probably going to read his new girlfriend the Riot Act about unprofessional conduct as soon as he could get her alone… "What a waste…" Reid thought, taking a moment to notice how wonderfully attractive his black haired colleague was.

"So, where do you stay, Rose?" Morgan had finally managed to stop his bear laughs and was looking through his cell phone.

"Stafford. I and my roommate found this amazing place in the suburbs. It's a Tudor style house with a beautiful slice of garden and a lovely backyard. Perfect for pets and gardening."

"Oh, you have a pet? That's cool.."

"Pets, actually. 15 cats. 3 dogs. Some hamsters. A few spiders and some snakes." Aisha replied nonchalantly, and took a minute to register the jaws that had dropped a few hundred feet.

"15 cats?" Emily stifled, while Hotch stared incredulously.

"How do you handle them all? It must be close to an asylum." Rossi shook his head.

"Actually, they're all very disciplined. No trouble at all. And when have spiders and snakes ever caused trouble?"

"Spiders and snakes? Really?" JJ started pouring herself a cup of coffee from the plane's espresso machine. "They don't…you know, freak you out?"

"Why should they?" Aisha shrugged. "They're just discriminated against because of their appearance and biblical allusions. Snakes happen to be very docile, calm creatures unless one goes out of their way to irritate and set them off. And spiders never cause harm if they have been given their share of sustenance. Infact, I don't think Marco has ever hunted…"

"Marco? Your spider? You named a spider?" Emily balanced her chin in the cup of her palms.

"Of course. I name all my babies, like any good mother. Oh, speaking of that, I have to pick up a feeding bottle for Antoine…"

Spencer let out a quiet laugh. She was far more than he had ever imagined…

The plane landed within the next hour, and everyone advanced towards their homes, eager to catch up on some much needed rest. Morgan offered Spencer a ride; most considered a car collateral damage in the hands of Spencer Reid, and Morgan didn't want him trudging through stacked subways at the moment.

"Newbie's really something, huh?" The African American rested into his seat with one limp hand on the wheel. The roads were thankfully free of maddening traffic at the hour.

"Yea, something." Reid wondered what his colleague would say if he knew the actual extent of his goings on with the "newbie".

"You okay, kid?" Morgan asked, seeing his friend slumped against the glass, staring listlessly at the rushing blur of muted streetlights and winking porchlights.

"Yea…"

"Reid, you know I know you well enough to know that "Yea" means you're the exact opposite of alright. So out with it, genius before I need to start applying information extraction techniques on your ass."

He released his breath with a huff. Morgan was his friend, one of the few people who had always been there for him. He deserved to know. He deserved to know everything that churned inside the young mind. If anyone could help him, it was Derek, wasn't it? Derek was the one with all those women, he was the one who knew about the feminine nature.

"Just the case. Doesn't feel right, that Ciro man." It wasn't a complete lie. Reid wasn't feeling too comfortable with the idea of facing a man who had made him feel real rage after a very long time. Rage was unwanted in his line of work, as was fratrenising with a fellow agent.

"Okay, Reid. Relax, will you? Stop thinking about serial killers , blood and murder for a couple of minutes and try to get that brain of yours some rest. Every geniuses need sleep. We'll figure everything out. We always do."

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His chocolate tinted hair gleamed dully in the overhead light as he smoothed it out with lithe, quick fingerstrokes. Reclining on the couch, Spencer let his head fall back and closed his eyes, allowing the comforting ache of exhaustion and the sweet buzz of jet-lag steal over him. Soft sighs escaped his slightly parted lips, he wanted to sleep. His half- deadened mind conjured up images of flowing red and sugary green and he let his aching limbs wallow in gentle, sleepy illusions.

His mother reading Bruce to him, the comforting, assuring voice, her warm, safe embrace. How long had it been since he had felt safe, truly safe? He was diligently protected by his teammates, usually confined to working out geographical schematics rather than assist in field work. He didn't bother, but he wanted to feel truly safe, his heart, he wanted his heart to feel the same, soft, sweet warmth he had felt when 12 years old.

His mother being taken away, and he was the one who had called the sanitarium. He was the one who had called those men called in blazing white, and as they led her away, she was crying, crying as if her heart was breaking. He couldn't let her be taken away, not again. "Mom!" He called. She couldn't hear him, she was crying. He yelled at the men to stop, but they didn't listen. They kept taking her away, far away, far from him. "STOP!" He screamed.

The men stopped. They started turning. Reid couldn't see them both, but he could see one. His face was….Damien Ciro! It was Damien Ciro. He was grinning like the devil, one enormous hand clutching his mother's fragile arm. She sobbed, begging for Spencer to help her, to not send her away. The monster was going to punish her, punish her for him. He was going to toss her into hell because Spencer had captured him. He called out to his mother again, she had to look at him, she had to know he loved her. "MOM!"

She looked at him, and to his horror, he saw that she had no face. Her skin had been peeled off and what remained was a ghastly, horrendous plethora of bleeding veins, sagging arteries and two blood shot eyeballs that revolved madly in the sockets. Her sobs were gurgling, and as Ciro started pulling her away again, her body started to disintegrate. Spencer could see the skin of her arms, legs, neck to fall off, revealing glistening crimson horrors beneath…

"NOOOOOOOOOO! MOM!" He kicked away the blanket, sitting up violently and knocking over the little vase of flowers on the coffee table, sending it smashing into the marble floor.

His scream echoed off the mauve walls. He fell back into the couch and began to pant, gripping his sweated hair. His heart threatened to undergo a stroke, and he inhaled several gulps pf air, attempting to stop his chest from exploding. Whipping out his cell, he started punching in the number of the sanitarium.

The phone buzzed into life before he could finish. It was JJ. Spencer felt a cold sensation stab him. Why would she be calling at this hour unless…? He shook his head. It could just be another case. "Hey JJ…"

"Reid, you have to get to the office now." Her voice was concerned, almost frantic. Reid bit his lower lips from screaming out. His knees were starting to shake and he felt he would pass out…. "JJ, what is it? What's wrong?" His voice quivered like a weed in a storm.

"Its Damien Ciro. He's escaped."

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OOC: I know. I know. Looooonnnggggg delay. But, with college and all, its kinda difficult to procure time for fanfic, or anything other than assignments, term papers and projects, for that matter. Hope you guys understand. And do comment. Thanks for all the reviews, people. Love you!


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